The Devil Can Be Beautiful
by Calamity in Motion
Summary: Tate was not the only one to snap on his school that year. Lotte, his twin sister was right there with him, as she always had been, no matter what he chose to do. Twincest, violence and sexual content beyond this point. You have been warned.
1. Lions

**As stated already, this is a twincest story. If you don't like that or can't handle it, then you probably shouldn't read it. It will most likely get graphic and a wee bit twisted, so you have been warned. For those that read it, feedback would be greatly appreciated.**

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><p><strong>1983<strong>

"Look at him go!" Tate said in awe. The 6 year olds black eyes were glued to the small TV screen, his twin sister sitting beside him and just as fascinated. They were fraternal twins, and this had worried their mother in the very beginning. She had been afraid that Tate would steal away all the beauty she had finally managed to pass into her children, but Charlotte had grown into a perfect little angel…in looks at least. Their height and general shapes were similar, they certainly looked like twins. Both had blond curls, though Lottie's went down her back in bouncing pigtails. Their eyes seemed to be their only real difference. Lottie's eyes were lighter than her brother's, more chocolate then black, though they were both dark.

The little girl was always with her twin, they played together and each watched over the other like sentries. Constance might have been happy with this if it hadn't meant her little girl was becoming such a tomboy. She hated dresses, and no matter the dirt or stink of whatever Tate found himself involved in, Lottie was right there with him.

Today it was a nature show on lions. The twins were fascinated by the giant predators, though Constance thought nothing of it until the jeering started. The twins cheered on the attacking pride of lions as they hunted, squealing and laughing when they caught their prey, and Constance sighed. When she switched off the TV, there was the expected whining, but she sent them outside and that was that.

It was hot outside in California during the summer, something their mother didn't mind, but made them sluggish. They had learned to busy themselves regardless because when Constance kicked them out of the house, they weren't allowed back until dinner. Tate climbed up onto the bench that swung behind their porch and placed his little hands on his hips, holding his chin high.

"I'm the king of the lions." He proclaimed to Lottie's clapping and cheers. "You can be in my pride too, but I'm the leader."

"You're always the leader." Lottie complained, pushing the swing and watching him tumble off onto the porch with a thud. She giggled at this and Tate climbed back up to his feet, pudgy face scrunching up in irritation. The boy gave a cry, what he could pass for a roar, and leapt at her. The twins tumbled off the porch in a frenzy of struggling and cries, landing in the dirt. Tate climbed on top of his sister, holding her down with a big smile.

"I caught you, so now you're my mate."

"_Nuh-uh_!" Lottie cried, not one to be told what to do, but her brother kept her pinned to the ground.

"Well who else can be?" he asked, "The lioness queen is the strongest one in the pride. Besides, you're the only girl. You_ gotta_ be my mate."

The girl thought about this for a moment before she smiled a little. "The lioness gets to do the hunting, cuz she's strong too, just like the king lion."

"Uh-huh." Tate nodded, then leaned down to look at his twin, "So are ya gunna be my mate then?"

Lottie rolled her eyes, something she was beginning to get good at and sighed, as if she hadn't already decided to play anyway. "I _guess_."

"Good." Tate nodded and climbed off of her, helping her back to her feet and brushing the dust off the dress their mother had insisted she wear that day. It was ruined now, like all of the others. Eventually the woman would learn. The boy grabbed her hand and they headed toward the back of the property, toward the trees.

"Now we gotta go hunting." He smiled back at her, "Since it's just us for now, we can do it together."

"Okay." Lottie grinned and they disappeared into the brush.

**1994**

I'd woken up that night after fitful sleep. It was getting harder and harder to nod off nowadays, as if Tate had passed his insomnia off on me. I'd decided to go downstairs for some tea in hopes that the warmth would sooth me into slumber. As I made my way to the kitchen, the only sounds I heard were that of snores when passing Constance's room with Lawrence sawing away and my own creaking footsteps. I gagged at the thought of that scrawny bastard in there with my mother, not that I thought she deserved any better, just that of all the people it had to be him. Then again, Constance loved this house more than anything. She would do anything, or anyone to keep it.

Now both exhausted and irritated, I rummaged through the cabinets and found my special sleepy time tea, putting on a kettle and sitting at the island barstool. I tapped my fingers on the marble countertop until the water boiled and hurriedly grabbed a mug. I'd just set down the mug to let the tea steep when I felt an arm snake around my waist and drag me backwards. Another slipped over my mouth as I was pulled into the hallway and pushed back against the wall. I didn't scream or struggle though, I knew who it was.

"I didn't know you were up," Tate grinned, half his face hidden in the shadows of the dark hallway, and leaned in to kiss the shoulder bared by my dark blue tank top. I didn't move, letting his tongue and teeth find their way to my throat and then the lobe of my ear. He caught it between his teeth a moment, and chuckled softly.

"Wanna play lions?" He murmured into my ear.

I shivered, searching his face and grinning beneath his hand. When he finally uncovered it, my hands went up to the back of his neck and I pulled him into a kiss. We lost ourselves a long moment and his hand slipped up under the tight material of my shirt, cupping my breast and kneading it slowly. I nipped his lower lip, my own hands finding their way under his shirt to explore the tight expanse of flesh beneath it and rake my nails down to the line of his jeans.

Tate shivered at this, letting out a slow breath and he smiled again, wicked and inviting before his arms went down to my thighs and he scooped me up, holding my legs up around his waist. I giggled and kept myself steady by gripping his shoulders, letting him carry me over to the island counter and set me down on the edge. One arm swept away all the various things that had been sitting there and sent them crashing to the floor. He wasn't worried about Constance, she could sleep through anything after a bottle of vodka, and Lawrence could be dealt with if necessary.

"Were you having trouble sleeping again?" Tate asked as he grabbed my shorts and tugged them down my legs. I giggled, adjusting to make it easier and nodded.

"It's getting worse. My dreams are…they don't help."

My twin nodded, leaning in to kiss my forehead tenderly, "I know, Lottie." Of course he understood. Tate understood everything I was going through, because he suffered with the same. A slick wet darkness that coiled in our chest, haunting our dreams with bodies and blood. We often joked that eventually the only thing to do would be to enact the horrors in hopes of satisfying the darkness. Maybe then we would both get a little sleep.

"Will you distract me?" I asked as he laid me back on the counter and limbed up to join me there. Tate nodded, kissing me again and smiling down at me with mischief gleaming in his black eyes.

"I'll do you one better," he smirked, "I'll help you get some sleep."

"Oh yeah?" I asked skeptically, but he bent down again, his lips on my throat and my chest and heading south quickly.

"I'll wear you out like I always do and you'll sleep like a baby."

I laughed at this, rolling my eyes. "What makes you think I won't wear _you_ out?"

Above me, Tate shrugged, "I guess we'll find out, then won't we."

"Bring it on." I challenged, grabbing his shirt in my fist and dragging him back to kiss me. The moment he did my hands were on his jeans, popping open the button and tugging down the zipper. I had gotten so quick with it now that it hardly took a moment before I'd pushed them down enough to grasp my hand around his cock. He sucked in a breath against my lips and I smiled wickedly.

In the end it was Tate who had been right. When he finally carried me back to my room and laid down beside me I had drifted off in moments, and slept the rest of the night in his arms, just like a baby.

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><p><strong>Gotta thank James Nesnit's Mr Hyde for the line "Wanna play lions." Without it, this chapter would have never been born. I just imagine anything more perfect than that after the thought struck me, and had to go with it. We'll get to the hunting later, but for now just imagine "In The Jungle" playing across the background.<strong>


	2. Tis the Season

**This was supposed to be posted Christmas Eve, but unforeseeable issues prevented that, so now I'm that late relative who send my gifts a few weeks after the holiday…perhaps you were still pleased with it though?**

**I'm sure this is a little rough, I rushed to post it since it's taken so long. Hopefully I'll get the time to go back through it and fix all the spelling/grammar mistakes. Until then, enjoy!**

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><p><strong>1993<strong>

**Christmas Eve**

"I wanna put Daddy's angel on the tree." Adelaide exclaimed pulling the porcelain, red headed tree topper from the ornament box. Constance took one look at it and her eyes hardened.

"How many times do I have to tell you to get rid of that cheep piece of garbage?" she poured herself a new glass of vodka and mumbled about something to do with a red-headed harlot. "Put up that pretty new gold one Momma got the other day."

Adelaide stared at our father's angel a long moment, but I moved in front of her to keep Constance from noticing. I grabbed the gaudy thing and climbed onto the step ladder to place it. None of us wanted to replace our father's angel any more than Addie did. Our mother had loved that angel when daddy was still around. She thought it was fiery and strong, and then dad had run off with the maid and the angel was only a reminder of the husband stealing red-head.

"Would you just look at that?" Constance beamed up at the shining Christmas tree like it was a message from God himself. She decided that the decorating would be a family affair this year. Tate and I had passed this off as one of her rare maternal spells, knowing it would end soon after. Until then, we had dutifully wrapped the huge evergreen in tinsel and hung the glittering glass and porcelain ornaments, listening to the stories of their origins for the thousandth time. Apparently our Christmas was decorated thanks to our mother's many past suitors.

"Oh no Addie, let your brother hang that one. You know you have those pudgy butterfingers." Constance sat back in the overstuffed couch, legs crossed at the ankle and sipped at her vodka, motioning to Tate.

He fumed a moment where Constance couldn't see, then moved to Addie smiling at her and ruffling her hair to take away the hurt little frown she was wearing. She giggled and he hung the ornament high up on the tree, right at the edge of the branch. Constance didn't notice and Tate was quick to move Addie and himself away from the tree before the glass ball slipped from the branch and shattered on the hardwood floor.

There was silence a long moment and our mother's eyes slid from the broken glass to my twin brother as he pulled on an expression of mock dismay. "Oh _no_, mother, forgive me. I thought it was secured up there. I know how much you liked that one."

"Just get the dust pan." She snapped. We all knew it had been no accident, and he wasn't bothering to seem sorry, but Constance couldn't do anything about it. She'd lost what little control she had over my brother when he'd hit puberty. So, with a grin and a little pinch to Addie's arm that made her giggle again he loped out of the room. Grinning to myself I moved to follow him, but Constance had set her eyes on me.

"Don't look so pleased with yourself." She sneered, "Clean it up."

I rolled my eyes and grabbed the broom we'd used on the excess pine needles earlier. Tate came back when I had worked the broken glass into a pile and knelt down in front of me with the dust pan. I paused a moment watching the little curls of gold on the back of his neck and imagining the soft feeling of them. I realized I'd been standing there too long when Tate lifted his black eyes up to me and the corner of his moth curled into a knowing smirk. After that I swept the glass into the pan quickly, glancing at Constance to see that she had been too involved in her drink to notice.

"Are we gunna watch a Christmas movie?" Addie asked excitedly moving to the couch with our mother while Tate and I took the floor near the back hallway, leaning up against each other.

"What a great idea darling," Constance smiled, already forgetting the ornament. "Tate why don't you go fetch _It's a Wonderful Life_?"

"Hell no." he said flatly. "I hate that movie."

"You'll get it." our mother said slowly, eyes narrowing, "We're going to sit back and be a _family_ for once damnit."

"_Right_." he scoffed, shoving himself up to his feet and moving to the cabinets where we kept the VHS's. After a few minutes of loudly looking for the tape and Constance pinching the bridge of her nose in irritation he returned with it, tossed the paper case on the floor and shoved it into the VHS player.

"Thank you." Constance said snidely, and he smiled just as hatefully back, plopping back down on the floor beside me and hitting the light. In the soft glow of the Christmas tree I slipped my arm around his and laced our fingers, playing with his ring. He took a deep breath to calm himself back down and settled in against me, closing his other hand around ours.

The movie was just as depressing as it had always been. I'd always hated the message behind it. Be thankful for what you have…but know that everyone's life would be just fine without you. Yeah, that _always_ put me in the Christmas spirit. I had rested my head on Tate's shoulder, ready to fall asleep when I felt his hand slide away from mine. His fingers feathered down my hip and rested against my inner thigh. I went still, my eyes going to the shadowed Constance sitting on the couch beside us. She and Addie were both consumed by the movie already. Tate likewise seemed enthralled, eyes glued to the screen, but he'd just unbuckled my belt and quietly pulled it open. Then went my zipper and my hand snapped down to his wrist, my eyes wide in panic.

"What are you _doing_?" I hissed softly. Tate chuckled and leaned in to whisper back.

"We hate this movie." As he spoke his teeth found the cusp of my ear, just long enough to make my heart begin to race. If Constance saw this I wasn't sure what she'd do. Call me crazy, but there were times when I believed my mother could actually kill a person, _I_ was screwed.

"Distract me." Tate murmured nipping me once more and pulling back to pretend to watch the video. Meanwhile his hand had slipped down into the front of my jeans, his fingers finding my most sensitive area and brushing across it through the fabric of my panties.

I couldn't help myself. I jumped in alarm barely able to muffle my startled cry. Beside me, he'd pulled away smoothly and was covering his laughter by fiddling with his shirt. Constance snapped her gaze over to us, though she could only see our upper halves unless she leaned forward or stood up. This didn't really comfort me. I imagined that she could sense it or see it on my face and we would be done for, but she only scowled.

"Don't you two even _start_ with the horseplay. I swear to _God_. You're nearly grown up now, start _acting_ the part." She pulled Addie closer to her side making the girl smile. Addie seemed to get attention when Tate and I misbehaved, as if it should punish us. Addie ate it up, and we let her have it. A pillow flew from Constance's hand and knocked Tate across the head, but he was still laughing softly at me and batted it away without a thought. "I swear, you've destroyed any chance that girl had of ever marrying."

He caught my eyes at this and what I could see of his face in the glow of the TV screen was intense. For a moment I could only stare back at him, and he took this opportunity to slip his fingers past the elastic of my panties and brush his middle finger against my clit again. I jerked, grabbing his arm to steady myself and avoid Constance's attention. My eyes snapped to him, wide and meaningful and he only grinned back at me.

Tate didn't stop, he seemed completely at ease. In fact, the guy was calmly watching the horrid movie, while out of view his fingers had just pushed inside me. He pulled me closer, his thumb taking up the slack for his fingers and working my clit, meanwhile I grabbed the long sleeve of his dark grey sweater and knotted it in my fist. I was fighting back a moan I knew would come eventually. It always did when _he_ was touching me.

Everything about him made me burn. The sound of his soft chuckle when I trembled in restraint, the warm feel of his breath stirring my hair, the smell of him, wrapping around me like a soothing blanket of masculinity. He even _tasted_ wonderful. It was as if he'd been manufactured just for me. We were part of the same whole and he knew exactly what to do to my body to make me tremble. I'd said and done things for Tate that I would never even consider with another man, he was the only thing I wanted.

"Meet me in the garage." He murmured against my ear, kissing my temple and pulling his hands away from me. I ached from the loss.

I watched him stand and leave with only a grunt of disapproval from Constance. For a long moment I just sat there, breathing in soft shallow pants, and trying to hide them. He'd touched me _once_ and I was done for. After centering myself, I fastened my jeans as quietly as I could manage and crossed my legs to stop the tingling of excitement and lust that was building in me quickly.

"Just go." Constance said suddenly, making me jump. I saw her turn in the dark and glare at me, I could just feel it. "The two of you might as well have been fused together."

I smiled at this strangely pleasant thought and stood quickly, hurrying out of the living room and toward the back door. The garage was detached from our old house next door, sitting a couple yards from the small back porch. After Lawrence's wife had killed herself and his children we'd moved out of it and back into the old monstrous place. There hadn't been another buyer since and it sat abandoned now. It had since become our clubhouse of sorts and we had been careful to copy the key before returning it to the landlord who never inspected his property anyway.

The light was on inside, visible through the small curtain we'd put up over the side door window. When I opened it and stepped inside, I pulled the curtain closed, shutting out the evidence that we were here, and turned toward the open space. Lawrence had bought Constance a new car after we'd moved, so she'd left her old one here to rust. It didn't run anymore, but we'd had fun with the parts _and_ the specious back seats of course.

Tate was lounging on the stack of old mattresses we'd shoved into the corner for seating. He was flipping through a copy of the Rolling Stone, Kurt Cobain singing out the chorus of _Polly_ in the background.

_Polly wants a cracker__  
><em>_Maybe she would like some food__  
><em>_Ask me to untie her__  
><em>_A chase would be nice for a few_

I didn't go to sit beside him; instead I made my way to our stash of boxes and pulled them aside, grabbing the small black bag hidden behind them. Inside was a variety of illegal substances. It wasn't that we were burn outs or anything, but we liked to have our fun once and a while. I settled for the least of all evils in the bag, a pill bottle stuffed with hydroponic.

"That was an asshole move you pulled back there." I said as I sat down on the mattresses, up against the wall and separated from him. I wasn't angry, god I was still so turned on I felt lightheaded, I just didn't want to admit to it yet. "I should kick your ass."

Tate laughed, tossing down his magazine and rolling onto his side, sitting up on his elbow. He titled his head to regard me with a knowing smile. "Oh please. You're practically _vibrating_ you liked it so much."

"That's beside the point," I said begrudgingly. I'd broken up a nug and was busying myself with packing a bowl when Tate pulled himself closer to me on the mattress. I glanced up at him, arching a brow and deliberately struck my lighter and roasted the bowl, taking my time.

My brother watched this a moment, he'd sidled up beside me with an arm on either side of my legs. When I finished my hit and was gearing up to exhale and give him what for, Tate's hand slipped around the back of my neck and he kissed me. I was startled at first and went still, but as his tongue found mine I melted into him. I watched him pull back with a grin, turning his head to blow my smoke away from us before leaning back toward me.

"Are we done with the stoner moment now?" he asked, glancing at the pipe I was gripping tightly in my hand. At this however, I scoffed.

"Is that right Scarface? Is it going to be a_ white_ Christmas Tate? Is that what you'd prefer?"

"What are you, the cocaine police?"

"I think those are the same police." I said, fighting my smile because this argument wasn't tuning into an argument at all. There was humor in both our voices, we were just being playful.

Tate sighed heavily when I lifted the pipe up to spite him and took another hit. He let me hold it in a moment and exhale slowly, watched me cough, and then the fingers that still rested in the back of my hair tightened into a fist. He took the pipe from me with his free hand and guided me down onto the mattress.

"Give it back." I said, though my voice wavered in my excitement. Tate chuckled, leaning down to nibble at my throat.

"Make me," he breathed against my skin, sending a warmth and tingle throughout my whole body. I shuddered, letting out a shaking breath and smiled up at him.

"I want to say no right now." I said slowly, fighting to keep my voice steady, "To tease you the way you were teasing me. Constance was sitting like _three_ feet away."

"Is that why you're so hot right now? Did the danger turn you on?" he smirked, my belt was undone again. He was getting quick at that. "I'd fuck you against the bitch's bedroom door if you'd let me."

"I'm serious, Tate. Don't make a habit of this."

At this, my brother gave a scoff and looked down at me, "Or _what_ exactly?"

My eyes narrowed and I let my mouth curl into a wicked smile, "Challenge accepted."

"What?" He began to ask confused, but I'd already moved up and shoved him to the side. Tate tumbled off the mattress stack onto the concrete and I took the opportunity to jump to my feet and dash around the car. When he'd stood again, his black eyes were practically shining with mischief, his smile would have made the devil proud.

Tate straightened, casually dusting off his sweater and making a slow path toward me. "Is this how we're doing it?" he asked, watching me move to keep the car between us. "You're going to make me chase you down?"

"I'm thinking _you_ should work for it, for once."

He laughed, shaking his head and leaning down to plant his hands on the trunk of the car while I stood on the other side. "And if I catch you?"

I shrugged innocently, "You can have your Christmas present early."

I shouldn't have said it. Tate's smile became quiet and dangerous, his gaze focused, and I watched him tense to spring before I could react to it. My twin used his hands to vault over the trunk while I squealed and ran to the other side. I'd made it to the front bumper when Tate's arms closed around me from behind and he lifted me up off my feet. I laughed and struggled playfully, and he smirked pushing me down onto the hood of the car. I rolled onto my back to look up at him as he grabbed my already unfastened jeans and jerked them off of me. Instantly I yelped and arched away from the frigid metal.

"Holy shit its cold out here." I said, but he only shrugged, grabbing my thighs and dragging me down the hood to settle down against me. He fit perfectly, as he always had, as if we had been made specifically for the other.

"It won't be for long." He promised kissing me lightheaded and pulling back to look me over with a smirk. "I was expecting a little more fight though. That was pathetic."

I shot him a glare, "there are only so many places to run in a garage Tate. But if you want-" I began to sit up and push him off, but my twin's hands settled on my shoulders and he pushed me back down, holding me there and shaking his head.

"Oh, no. I caught you. It's _your_ fault you suck at running." He leaned down to kiss the corner of my mouth, pulling away just far enough when I responded that I couldn't kiss him back. He was teasing me again, the bastard. "So what is my present?"

"I've decided you don't get one anymore." I said as he smirked and kissed my throat, then my collarbone.

"That so?" he asked softly against the flesh over my ribs. His tongue flicked out, warm and soft and he kissed the place he'd just made tingle again before moving lower. "Then I'll just have to give you yours."

"Oh yeah?" I grinned, pushing myself up on my elbows to watch him. He'd made it to my hip now, nipping the flesh there before tonguing the hollow below my navel, right above the elastic of my back panties. My voice wavered with excitement, "What is it?"

Tate's black eyes lifted to meet mine, but he didn't reply, instead he took the band of my underwear and dragged them down my legs, stuffing them into the back pocket of his jeans. I shuddered at the cold metal of the car against my backside, but my brother was doing a good job of distracting me from it now. He slipped an arm up under the back of my knee and turned to kiss my thigh, moving steadily toward my core. As he did, my fingers closed into tight fists at the anticipation, my jaw clenching unintentionally. Tate's black, bottomless gaze lifted my mine again, the corner of his mouth turning up in the slightest of wicked smiles and then he tugged me closer and his lips brushed my most sensitive place. I sucked in a breath at this, unable to tear my eyes away from his as his tongue flicked out, slipping between my folds a moment and fleeting away just as quickly. More torture, more teasing, but _god_ was it making me hot.

Tate rested my knee over his shoulder to keep me in place, urging my other leg to open wider and I complied almost instantly, heart thumping in my chest like a bass drum. His mouth closed over my sex a moment, his tongue running down the slit there, and then his fingers were touching me as well, spreading my labia so that he could slip his tongue inside of me.

That was it, when I flipped the switch from frisky to downright horney. A shudder passed up my spine, making me tremble, and Tate chuckled against me, sending more tingling shudders over me with the warmth of his breath on such a sensitive place. His tongue had speared me again and my hand shot out blindly, gripping the tousled golden curls that covered his head. My fist went numb from my grip and after a moment of tasting me, he had to extract the hand to gain back his mobility, lacing our fingers and letting me squeeze his hand instead. Then he went right back to his work, coaxing a string on unintelligible words and moans from me.

"_Jesus_." I hissed out when his tongue found its way inside of me again. Tate chuckled again, replacing his mouth with his fingers, and thumbing my clit, slipping two fingers inside of me and beginning to work them slowly.

"Not that I don't appreciate the comparison," he said with a smirk as I arched up off the hood and moaned with abandon. I'm sure if anyone was outside they could hear us plainly. "But I'd prefer you only called out _my_ name when I'm touching you."

I couldn't respond, my brain was frying, my eyes squeezing closed at the building pleasure. But he had always liked to push me, and didn't stop here.

"Charlotte." He said simply, expectantly.

"Mm-hmm?" was all I could manage, and I opened my eyes to look down at him and the brow he had arched at me.

"If you want me inside of you anytime soon-" He began, but I cut him off with a hitched breath and a wavering voice.

"_Tate._ Please, I want you." I said, grabbing the front of his sweater and pulling him down over me for a deep kiss, "I want you **now**. I _need_ you."

Those were apparently the magic words.

Tate let me pull his shirt over his head, and I grinned as a layer of goose bumps rose across the soft skin there at the sudden cold. With his fingers still working me furiously, I could hardly keep myself steady, but I managed to sit up enough to kiss him again, biting down on his bottom lip and flicking my tongue across the edge before I released it. He growled his arousal into my mouth, and kissed me back, claiming my mouth before pulling away completely and slipping his fingers out of me. I began to protest, until I watched him draw the digits into his mouth, cleaning them and smiled, to nuzzle into my throat as I shuddered at the sight.

"You taste like heaven," he murmured, "Did you know that?"

I didn't respond, couldn't, so he leaned back to kiss me again, parting my lips with his tongue. I could taste myself on him, and the thought made my already pounding heart explode into a frenzy. When he'd pulled back to look down at me, I was panting, flushed, and so ready to fuck him that my body physically ached. He saw this, reaching down to run his thumb across my bottom lip, smiling when I drew it into my mouth and circled the pad of his finger with my tongue. I watched the heat build in his eyes and then sudden he stood straight.

I nearly yelled at him, but Tate had already grabbed my arm and yanked me off the car. Before I could question this however, he flipped me around and bent me over the hood, pinning my hands to the cold metal with his.

He kissed my shoulder, bit down until I groaned, and rested our bodies flush together. I could feel his cock through his jeans now, pressing against me. He was just as ready as I was, he just had mountains more of restraint than I did, and always had. While I was content to attack him some days and fuck the crazy right out of him for an hour or two, Tate enjoyed toying with me until I couldn't stand it anymore and practically begged him to do it.

Thankfully this was not one of those occasions.

He released one of my hands to reach between us and the sound of his zipper, made my head spin with anticipation. My mouth was practically watering now. I tried to watch him over my shoulder, but could only make out flashes of him, a curl of gold, the fleeting glance of deep black eyes. I was ready to spin around and tackle the fucker when suddenly he'd kicked my legs apart and without pause he pushed into me from behind.

We both let out strangled sounds of pleasure at this. Relief beyond description. For a long moment we could only sit there, enjoying the feel of the other, and then he began to thrust again, starting at a slow deliberate pace that I could have never managed by myself. His forehead came down on my shoulder a moment and I let my own head hang there, letting out a soft, husky cry when he thrust into me completely and drew away to repeat the motion.

Tate's hand remained over mine on the car, bracing us on the hood, the other lifted to my chin, taking hold of my jaw and turning my head so he could kiss me. As he did, my own free hand went up and behind me to wrap around his neck. His fingers skimmed down between my breasts and I sucked in a gasp of pleasure when he began to work my clit in time with his thrusts. I broke the kiss for only a second, my voice breathy and labored, and even then I managed only one word.

"Harder."

Tate smiled and our tongues clashed again, back to the battle for dominance, back to the passion. He didn't hesitate to answer my request and drew out of me completely to thrust back in with such force I fell forward a few inches and let out a short cry of surprise and arousal. After that, there was no more gentility. Each time he pushed into me it was sudden and deep, sinking down to the base of his cock before he'd pull back and start over. Our rhythm had increased as well, turning my soft yips and moans into a halted litany of sound. I was trembling, my skin coated in the same glistening sheen of sweat as his. We glittered in the string lights above us, and the front windshield of the car had begun to fog. I was on fire, and any moment I felt I might burst. Tate seemed likewise ready, but somehow, as he always did, he held himself back, breaking our endless kiss to drawn his tongue along the shell of my ear, nipping the top when he got there. At my shudder, he smiled against my skin, rustling the fine hairs at my temple.

"Do you like your present?" he asked softly, keeping up the pace unrelentingly. When I could only take him, he chuckled. "_Answer_ me Charlotte."

"I-_nnhh-_I lik-_ahhh_…" I bit down on my lip a moment to steady myself as much as I was able and nodded. "Yes. _God_ yes."

He chuckled against me, kissing the hollow behind my ear and drawing the lobe into his mouth for a brief bite.

"Come for me, Lottie." He whispered into my ear, and with that my eyes rolled back and I moaned long and loud, a ripple of pleasure sending my body skipping off into a thousand different directions. They converged back on me, meeting at my core and radiating outwards in waves of warmth they vibrated out to the tips of my fingers and toes. So lost was I in this orgasm, that I hadn't noticed that Tate was slumping down above me, likewise lost in the echoes of climax. We both sat there a while, panting and shivering, both at the cold and our release, clutching to one another as if for life itself.

After what seemed hours, when we were able to move again, and Tate pulled himself out of me, pulling my panties from his back pocket to clean away the mess. Just the lightest brush of the fabric against me made me tremble and he laughed softly, pulling me up off the car and into a kiss. I was dazed, and shivering from the cold, now that the absence of his body had let it creep back around me. Tate refastened his jeans quickly and bent to grab mine.

He knelt down in front of me, holding them out, though I was only standing there, silent and still pulsing from him, when he whistled to get my attention, and laughed when I snapped to focus and lifted my leg. Tate helped me into my jeans and tugged them up my thighs, zipping them up and fastening my belt for me. When he'd finished he grabbed his own shirt and pulled it over his head.

I moved up beside him, slipping my hand under the material before he'd gotten it down and running my finger down the line of his abdomen, hooking my forefinger in the front of his jeans to pull him back into yet another passionate kiss.

"Merry Christmas." He grinned, wrapping his arms around me. I giggled.

"It was the best Christmas yet." My smile shifted into something wicked. "But it's not over yet."

"You owe me my gift." He nodded in agreement.

Still grinning, I pulled from his arms and took his hand, lacing our fingers. "It's getting colder out here. I think I want to take a hot bath." I looked back over my shoulder at him as I led him toward the door. "Will you join me?"

Tate grinned, and that was answer enough, but just before I pulled him out the door, stopped and grabbed the back of my neck kissing me deeply, and so suddenly that I could only take it, eyes wide. When he pulled back to search my eyes, his were full of sincerity and passion.

"I _love_ you, Lottie," he said, needing me to understand, to realize that they weren't just words to him. Tate meant them with every fiber of his being. So I smiled, reaching up to cup hi cheek and letting him nuzzle into my hand, kissing my palm.

"I love _you_." I said, just as serious, just as heartfelt.

He smiled, closing his eyes a moment with my hand against him, and then they popped open again, black and bottomless and he grinned devilishly, taking my hand again and dragging me from the garage. I hit the lights on the way out the door, watching as he led me eagerly back to toward our house.

"Now about that bath…"

* * *

><p><strong>So? Thoughts?<strong>

**This is just a random clip that got edited out in the first draft, but I loved it so much I kept it. I couldn't manage to fit it back into the chapter as it was, so I'm just going to post it right here. Sort of like a plot bunny…only waaaay short**

* * *

><p><strong>His fingers settled down on my ribs under my shirt and I flinched from the chill. "Jesus your hands are cold."<strong>

"**Are they?" Tate grinned, slipping them down to my unfastened jeans, and between my legs. "Warm them up for me."**

**I sucked in a sharp breath when he slipped them inside, two frozen digits that sent a ripple of cold out of my core. "_Ho_…" was all I managed to get out. It wasn't a jolly holiday cheer, I just couldn't form English words for a second and that was all I could come up with.**

"**Can I have you for Christmas?" Tate kissed my throat then my jaw, working his way to my mouth. He grinned "Will you let me unwrap you?"**

**I couldn't help the soft noise of pleasure at the husky tone of his voice and his fingers, working inside me, cold but wonderful.**

* * *

><p><strong>ANYWHO!<strong>

**Now that that's out of my system, is anyone else ready to march on Ryan Murphey's lawn , drag him out of his busted bedroom window despite the glass and beat him quite literally to death?**

…**just me then?**

**He's taken away my reason for loving the show. Now it will be NEW characters in a NEW place and Tate? He's _gone_, and he left as a whiner, "I'll wait. Forever if I have to." and unable to even stab a kid anymore. Sure Evan might play a new character/monster on the next season, but he won't be _Tate_. He might not even be in the show at all…in which case I'll make with the beating…or maybe I'll set Ryan on fire.**

"**This is for killing Tate off you fucker, and not in the awesome 'now he's on the show forever' way." Slosh goes the gasoline, Shink goes the match and then with all the "AAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!" and "OOOOHHHHH GOOOOOOOD! OOOOOWWWWHYYYYYYY?"**

**I don't even know if I can watch the next season. This is almost as shitty as watching The Dark Knight for the first time and realizing that Heath Ledger was really dead. (and how fucked is it that I didn't really care until I saw him as The Joker?)**

**For now I will cling to the wavering hope that if he could draw me in once, Ryan can do it again…but if he gives Evan Peters the roll of some boy next door, goodie-two-shoes asshole…I'm getting my Tate-inspired gas can and tracking that bastard down.**


	3. Starlight

**1992**

There were hands on my skin.

Warm, slender fingers traced the lines of my ribs, and a kiss was placed on each one after. I smiled to myself, rolling my head over on the pillow to look at my lover but he'd turned away. I wanted to see him, it was strange, but I couldn't remember who it was, and he was in shadow.

The room became a universe of stars and wispy colors, the bed a meteor rocketing through the coolness of space. I let my fingers hang from the side of the bed, dipping them into the ocean of light and color, watching space rippled around my touch. When I pulled my fingers back, I still had the light of the stars coating them to the second knuckle. I turned to my lover again with a smile, reaching out to paint him with starlight and chase away the shadows so I could see him. His hand came out of the darkness grabbing my wrist. My eyes settled on the silver ring around his thumb and I felt my smile widen.

"I want to see you." I said softly, painting the starlight along the line of his abdomen and drawing it up to his chest. I traced over his collarbones, but the light was not bright enough, so I got more from the placid ocean of space.

"Are you willing to walk on the surface of the sun?" I knew the voice, but couldn't place it, my brain was clouded in this beautiful place.

"I think that might kill me."

My lover chuckled softly, brushing my hair from my face and placing a kiss on my forehead. "And the pain would be exquisite. All great things require sacrifice, Lottie." He motioned out into the swirling space and the stars began to tremble. "Star-crossed love comes with the highest of prices."

"Death?" I frowned as the stars, one by one began to fall from the sky, hitting the wake of the meteor behind me and exploding into a bright firecracker of lights. As they all fell, the sky became darker and darker, the starlight on my fingers and painted on my lover's chest becoming dim.

"Sometimes." He replied softly pulling me closer and kissing me deeply.

As the universe around us collapsed, he laid me back on the surface of the meteor and I wrapped my legs around his waist. He pushed inside of me and I smiled and moaned and held tightly to him. The world began to rumble, the stars that had managed to remain all screaming in their fear.

"The world will end if you love me," My lover spoke against my ear, "But it will kill us both if you don't. Are you willing to walk on the surface of the sun?"

I looked up at him as the meteor shot us through the collapsing universe, heading straight for the giant ball of fire beyond. I could see it over my lover's shoulder, growing closer by the second, and my heart began to race in fear.

Then the light of the sun began to seep across us, and I could feel the heat of it as we rocketed closer. I reached out running my thumb along the bottom lip of the face that was slowly coming out of shadow. He smiled, nuzzling into my hand the way he always had and I felt my own smile take over. Tate dipped his head down to kiss me, but my eyes drifted passed him to the sun, so close now it burned.

"Will it hurt?" I asked him softly.

"Real love in _excruciating_."

"Will you stay with me then? I don't want to hurt alone."

He nodded, stroking my cheek and kissing me deeply again. "I'll never leave you, Lottie. Anywhere I go, I'll bring you with me."

"I'd like that." I smiled, and he returned it, burying himself deep inside of me while I wrapped my arms around him.

We clung to one another with a whisper of I love you, as the meteor plunged into the surface of the sun and we were coated in fire. I screamed for the pain, but the fire raced down my throat and I clung to Tate for strength as the meat was boiled from our bones, the blood burned and evaporated, and we were incinerated.

**xx**

I sat up in bed still panting with the ghost of his fingers on my skin. For a moment I could only stare out at the darkness of my room, eyes wide. Dreams of death were one thing. I saw faces and bodies, drenched in blood and insides almost every night, I'd come to expect it, but _this_, this was something entirely new and infinitely more disturbing.

"You said my name."

I jumped nearly out of my skin at the sound of Tate's voice, hand going up to my chest to hold in the heart that was trying to pound its way out. I tossed off my covers and stood, moving to the window and pulling back the thick black-out curtains to let in the light of the late afternoon. Tate was standing at the foot of my bed watching me with an expression I couldn't translate.

"What are you doing in here?" I asked a little more snappish than I'd intended, but he wasn't fazed. He usually wasn't.

"I could hear you from the hall," he said slowly. "I was going to come in here and wake you up to tease you about it and then you said my name."

I rolled my eyes at him hurrying into the hall, though he followed right after me. "It wasn't one of those dreams, you perv. That would be sick."

"Yes it was," he said, and his tone left no room for arguing. "And you were having it about _me_."

I felt my face heat instantly and quickly made a break for the stairs, taking them two at a time and heading for the kitchen. He wasn't far behind, and once I'd made it through the door he grabbed my arm and jerked me around to look at him.

"Please just drop it." I implored, feeling sick with shame and fear at his reaction. He must be disgusted by me, how could he not?

"No." Tate replied simply, brow furrowing, "I think we need to talk about this."

"I don't want to talk about this." I snapped, wrenching my arm from his grasp and stepping back. Unfortunately the kitchen counter blocked my path and I was trapped until he decided to move.

"Is it the first one you've had?" he asked slowly, he was trying to be gentle about it, but my mind was racing and I felt feverish.

"Yes." I said, but he could see the real answer in my face and took a moment to think, starring at the floor.

"Tate," I tried softly, fearing what he would say to me, fearing that I wouldn't be able to handle his rejection. "Tate I'm sorry, I don't know why-"

"Why are you sorry?" he interrupted, looking back up at me with a frown. "Do you think this has only happened to you?"

"Wait," I shook my head. "You…dreamed about _me_?"

He took a slow breath in and nodded. "A couple times. I didn't want to tell you because I thought you might freak, but now…"

"What did you do to me in these dreams?" I asked with a smirk, trying to tease him, though he was indifferent to it. I wanted to cover my shock, but he hardly reacted. Then Tate leaned forward before I could anticipate it his hand going to the back of my neck, the other grasping my side.

"In one of them we were in here," he said softly. "I laid you back against this counter," as he narrated, he reenacted the dream, leaning me back into the counter and stepping in close to stand between my legs, dangling at the floor. "Then I brushed my fingers up your side, like this." At this he smirked, "You purred like a kitten and pulled me closer."

Our breath was mingling between us now, with him so close. I could practically kiss him, and his black eyes had wondered down to my lips, promising wicked intent. Maybe other people couldn't read him, but he was my twin brother, I could tell when he was thinking about doing something crazy. Not knowing how to respond I simply froze in place, gripping his shoulders to support myself. Tate paused a moment, glancing up into my eyes a moment. Maybe he was searching for my fear or horror, but he found neither and that seemed to cement his decision. With a soft intake of breath, he dipped his head down and brushed his lips against mine.

I was still utterly frozen, my eyes wide in shock, but I didn't stop him. Tate's mouth returned, but this time it was more demanding, hungrier. It urged me, no, commanded I respond, and tentatively I did. It was strange at first, thinking about who he was and what this really meant rather than hormonal teenage shenanigans. I closed my eyes a moment, brow knitting as fear finally found its way into my gut, but Tate bit my lower lip and my eyes snapped open again. He stared at me a moment with a look only I could translate.

_You want this too._

It was a clear message, and for a moment I was swallowed by the guilt in it. It was true, why else would I find myself watching him walk or simply lounge about? Why would I dream about the things I should be doing with boys I wasn't _related_ to? Why would I purposefully walk into the bathroom while he showered, not that he didn't do the same, but that only meant he was just as depraved as I was. This was wrong.

But I didn't stop him.

Tate kissed me again, gentle and urging, a soft pleading that I prove that he wasn't alone. At first I only sat there, torn, but when his tongue flicked across the crease of my closed lips I found them opening in invitation. As I felt his tongue, velvety and soft against mine, my hand moved from his shoulder to the back of his neck and I pulled him closer.

As my consent was given proof, his grip on me tightened. His kisses became deeper, more demanding, as if he were trying to get it all out before I changed my mind and shoved him off. Tate braced his hand against the counter and leaned forward, forcing me to lie back across the cool marble. I sucked in a sudden breath when his other hand slipped down my hip and slid across my inner thigh, and sat up on the counter starring at him hard.

Tate didn't give up though, in fact when he caught his balance again his eyes narrowed slightly on me in resolve and he stepped back up to settle where he'd been. His lips brushed my cheek, then my ear, and he drew the lobe between his teeth a moment, sending a shudder of feeling shooting down between my legs despite myself.

"Let me touch you," he implored softly against my hair. I had to hold myself against him to stay seated on the edge of the counter, so I only listened. "I feel this…this _burn_. I have for so long now, and sometimes when I catch the way you look at me, I _know_ you do too." I moved to pull away, but Tate grabbed my wrists and jerked me back, wrapping them together in one hand and grabbed a firm hold on my hair to keep me close.

"You can't lie about this." He insisted, "Not to _me_." Then his hold became more gentle and he kissed my temple before resting his head against mine the way we had when we were children. "I _know_ it's wrong, Lottie. I'm not stupid, it's crazy and disturbed and _illegal_, but…" He pulled back to fix me with a dark stare, and as usual I couldn't turn away from those black, fathomless eyes, "that doesn't make it **disappear**. I _want_ you, Charlotte. I shouldn't and I'm sorry, but I can't change it," His eyes grew glassy with unshed tears and my heart broke at the sight of him, terrified of what I would say. "I've _tried_. **God** I've tried. All those snotty bitches at school are all claws until you tell them they're pretty or that they deserve better then the men they have. All it takes is a practiced smile and a few appealing words and they open their legs without question. I **tried**, Charlotte, but it didn't help."

"You slept with someone?" I don't know why this was the first thing out of my mouth, but it was spoken before I could stop it.

Tate's head dropped a bit and he drew a halted breath. "I didn't want to hurt you. I would never let _anyone_ or _anything_ hurt you, you _know_ that. But I was getting so weak, I'd catch your smell when I walked down the hall, or hear you singing in your room and I just wanted to grab you and touch you. When I'd find you alone, I'd imagine what it would be like to lay you back and taste every inch of you, to make you writhe and moan and just bury myself inside."

My grip on his shoulders was a little tighter now, and there was a fine tremor running through my body at his words. I felt hot and achy and touching him seemed to sooth it just enough that I could still breath, because everything he said could have been copied right out of my last couple of months in the house. I felt exactly the same and it was terrifying.

"We have to know for sure, Charlotte." He said, dipping his head down to catch my eyes when I looked away, and grabbing my chin when I avoided him. He searched my face, his own expression desperate and hurt and furious all at once. "If we do this and we're disgusted at least we'll know we're _normal_, but if we don't it will always be like _this_. Do you think one of the assholes at school is going to make you better because it didn't work for _me_."

"We've never been normal, Tate" I whispered, eyes closing again and my own tears slipping down my cheeks. I didn't want to live stuck in this emotional limbo anymore then he did, but what were my choices? What he was suggesting was crazy, and wrong and a thousand other terrible things, and yet I couldn't let go of him. I wouldn't.

Tate's hand slipped down my front, still holding my wrists in the other, and into my waistband. I jumped in shock when I felt his fingers slip passed my underwear, my knuckles going white where they gripped his shirt. He gently urged me open with two fingers, his middle finger dipping down against my clit for one quick experimental touch. A sound of muted shock passed my lips, but it was breathy and he took this as invitation, rubbing the tiny button of sensitivity in a slow circle.

"Tell me to stop, Charlotte." He said, his lips were against my ear again, his teeth catching the cusp and shooting more sparks of feeling through me. "All you have to do is say the word, and I'll never touch you again."

I tried to speak, but my eyes were closed again, my teeth clenched and my hips were moving of their own volition, rocking in time with his fingers.

"Tell me you don't want this." He continued, one finger slipping inside me while his thumb massaged my clit, and then another, "Tell me you don't think about this all the time, creeping into my room at night, slipping under the covers." He smiled against my temple, his fingers working faster, making me squirm from the building and confusing pleasure. "Do you touch me in your dreams, Lottie? Do you wrap your fingers around me and lead me inside, or do you like it when_ I_ take control?" I shuddered again, letting out a trembling breath into his soft golden hair. "Do you imagine what I might feel like inside you? I hear you in your room at night, Lottie, when it's late and you think no one is listening. When you touch yourself are you thinking of me?"

My grip on his shirt tightened until my fingers went numb, "_Yes_." The word was hissed, quiet and colored with shame and excitement. My skin was tight, my core throbbing in time with the thrusts of his fingers. I felt as if at any moment I might burst into a thousand pieces and burn away right in front of him. My heart was racing, beating so hard in my chest that it hurt, and my eyes were wet with tears. I wanted him too, _God_, did I want him, but I was scared. I knew I was disturbed, that could not be changed, but was I really this screwed up? Could I really fuck my own brother? My _twin_ brother.

He must have seen these thoughts on my face because Tate dipped his head down again, claiming my mouth in a passionate kiss that made my head swim. He didn't stop until I'd let out a soft sound of pleasure and then he was smiling, just slightly, _hopefully_ down at me.

"Please, Lottie. Just once. Let me do this once and then we'll never talk about it again, ok? I promise just don't…" he hung his head, his voice breaking. "Don't make me continue living like this. I _can't_. It hurts too much."

That was it, I let out a soft sob, blinking away my tears and gently pulled my wrists from his hand, he didn't stop me. I reached out, cupping his face between my palms and lifted him up to search his eyes. He was crying, silently, but it was still there, the shimmering trails of moisture glinting under the lights of the kitchen. For a moment I could only stare at him, we were lost in each other's eyes, searching, pleading, confused. He drew in a shaking breath and I felt the fine tremor he'd been trying to hide finally overtake him. He was just as lost and frightened and confused as I was and somehow that made me feel better. Knowing I wasn't the only one who knew this was fucked, gave me a modicum of peace.

I pulled him closer, letting him settle back between my legs and rest his hands on either side of me on the counter. He was still trembling, and it hurt to know that he was in pain. With a soft breath for courage I leaned forward, kissing away first one tear and then the other, before I paused, hovering just above his lips. I glanced up, finding him watching me, those dark fathomless eyes questioning and hopeful, and then I kissed him.

It was gentle at first, not wanting to frighten me away he let me lead, and I was too frazzled to move quickly. It began as a few tempered brushes between our lips, then they had parted and the kiss was deeper. Tate's tongue found mine before he could help himself, but I didn't pull away, I met the writhing muscle and wrote my name inside his mouth. A claim of sorts, though I couldn't really tell _why_ I did it.

As our kissing grew hungrier, so did our need to feel the other. My hand had slipped up to the back of his neck, my fingers dipping into the soft golden curls there. My other hand was against his chest, fingers splayed out against the hard warmth of him. Tate was likewise shifted. His hand had moved across the flat plain of my stomach to cup my breast gently at first until I arched forward into him in invitation. Then he made a soft sound of pleasure in the back of his throat and his fingers found the first button of my top. As they were pulled open I felt myself drifting away with him. Forgetting the fear and the pain for urgency and passion. When my shirt was open, his warm fingers danced in, first across my ribs, then they were back to my breast again, his thumb brushing against my nipple and making it stiffen beneath my bra. I sucked in a breath when he forced the cup of cotton up and freed my breast, breaking our kiss to dip his head down and draw my nipple between his teeth.

It was startling at first, I yelped, biting down on my lower lip as he rolled the bud between his teeth and his tongue circled it after. He toyed with me like this for a while, teasing me with brief flashes of pleasant pain and the warmth of his breath and tongue. Meanwhile his hand had slipped between us without my notice and he pulled the button of my jeans free, pushing his fingers back into me and making me moan.

At the sound we both went still, and Tate lifted his head to search my expression, to confirm that I had in fact done it and then he was smiling. He kissed me again, nipping my bottom lips and our tongues danced together, warring for dominance, though he was clearly the leader in this game.

He was always the leader.

I'd given up at this point on fear and sickness. There was no room for them in me anymore, I was already trembling and panting, my voice hitching here and there when he'd tease my clit. My hand moved down his chest, raking my nails through the thin cotton and making him hiss in a breath against my lips. I made short work of his jeans, pushing them down around his hips and closing my hand around his cock when I'd freed it.

Tate shuddered at the feel of my fingers, his head falling down to rest against my shoulder while I kissed his cheek and his temple and whispered that I loved him more than anything. That I wanted him, and that I had for as long as I'd been living. He was my twin, my other half, the single piece in this world that completed me. This would just be one more thing we'd shared, one more bond to hold us tightly together until the end of our days. Or maybe I was just the victim of teenaged horniness and tomorrow I would be crying my eyes out at what we'd done.

Right now it didn't matter

"Do it." I murmured, lifting his chin and stroking back the messy golden curls that had fallen into his eyes. I searched them, endless and dark, like the mouth of a bottomless pit, and nodded once. "You have to."

He didn't hesitate after that. My jeans were tugged off my body while my hand slipped away from his cock and I wrapped my arms around his shoulders kissing him until it hurt. We clashed in a fury of lips and tongues and teeth, devouring one another as he tossed my pants to the floor and stood straight again, never breaking our kiss for anything but air.

His arms wrapped around the backs of my knees and he lifted me up off the counter, resting me instead back against the wall. I reached up above me, to grab the open cabinet for support and continued to kiss him as if the world was ending. It might as well have been. One arm remained hooked under my leg to keep me pinned in place while the other had moved between us. I felt the brush of his cock against my inner thigh and sucked in a startled breath, but didn't move to pull away or stop him. In fact my passion doubled. My eyes closed briefly as I felt the head of him push up against my sex, and then he was inside of me, no wait, no drawn out game. He thrust himself all the way to the hilt in one go and I broke our kiss to bite down on his shoulder with a soft cry of pain and surprise.

It hurt, not in the way I'd expected, but it was still there. A dull ache that pulsed outward when he drew back and repeated the thrust. The pain doubled, and I whimpered against him, and Tate was quick to comfort me. H nudged my head back up and kissed the corner of my mouth.

"It won't hurt for long, Lottie. I promise." He spoke between kisses, "Say the word and I'll stop."

"No." I said, more forcefully than I'd intended, and the corner of his mouth turned up into a smile

**Tate**

She felt like heaven. Warm and velvety soft and so tight around him that he'd feared he wouldn't be able to get inside of her. He hadn't meant to push into her so forcefully; the truth was he just couldn't help himself. He would never hurt her, not really, but this was unavoidable.

He liked the way she clutched at him. Her fingers at the back of his neck tangling in his hair, pulling it when he made her moan. The sounds she made were the best. Soft and labored, breathy, broken noises of pleasure. She was a virgin, he'd known this, but somehow the feeling of it, seeing for himself had put him at ease. It took him a minute, but he'd found the rhythm that she liked, and slipped his hand down to work her clit in time with his thrust. This made her shudder and let out the most amazing little sound of pleasure he'd ever heard and he had to kiss her.

Tate knew when the pain had bled into simple pleasure, when the tension eased in her body into a fine tremble. She clutched at him tightly, the hands she'd been gripping on the cabinet falling down to tangle in his shirt and forced it up. In their positions she couldn't take it off of him, but she settled for tracing her finger up the line of his abdomen and raking them back down to make him shudder. Then those warm soft hands of hers reached around his back, cgrasping at his hips and urging him deeper.

Tate let loose his own muted growl of pleasure and dipped his head to capture her nipple in his mouth again. She seemed to like that, she was sensitive at least. All it took was a quick pinch from his teeth and the swirl of his tongue and her head fell back against the wall, her legs wrapping securely around his waist and a moan filling the empty kitchen. Now free, his hand shot up to cover her mouth and he pulled himself away from teasing her to nip at her ear and whisper that she be quiet. There was no real reason behind it, he just liked the way it made her eyes fill with heat and a shudder passed down her spine that he could feel deep inside her. With his hand still resting over her mouth, he went back to his teasing, sucking her nipple into his mouth and finding the things that made her gasp and whimper in pleasure.

Lottie's teeth had closed around the side of his hand now, too keep herself from screaming. It was painful, but Tate could ignore it, he'd felt worse. Instead he felt a flutter in his gut at the thought of her release, and thrust into her with renewed abandon. The cabinet above them was shaking, their bodies thumping up against the wall. If Constance got home any time soon, she would hear them. Hell she would walk right in on them. There was a brief twisted glee in him at the thought of her expression, but it vanished suddenly when Lottie gave up on quiet and let out a shuddering cry. The soft warmth surrounding his cock tightened even more, pulsing with her release and milking him until he felt his own explosive climax and fell against her, doing his best to keep her up against the wall.

For a long moment there was no sound in the kitchen but the labored pants of the twins. They remained there, clutching tightly to one another, but it wasn't just in passion. Tate could feel the twisting of fear and doubt deep in the back of his mind. The terror that once they pulled apart and really looked at what they had done it would kill them both. Or worse, make her _leave_ him.

Tentative and still a bit shakien, he pulled himself out of Lottie and brushed her long blond hair over her shoulder, recalling the way it had bounced around her shoulders like golden clouds when he'd been fucking her. God she was beautiful. Pale skin, soft like velvet, like all of her, long slender legs. Her fingers were slender and tapered, as his were, but utterly feminine. He liked the way they felt wrapped around him. He liked everything about her, her full lips, now swollen and red from their harsh kissing, and most of all her eyes. A dark chocolate color that bled to black when she was angry. If he hadn't just orgasmed moments before, the sight of her, flushed and gazing up at him with those big, brown doe eyes would have made him hard all over again. He wanted to bury himself inside of her and never let go.

He'd never felt like this, not for any other woman in this world. Sure he'd slept with a few girls from school, but those had been about distraction, curiosity, and exploration. He hadn't given a shit about any of them, only smiled and whispered sweet things to make them purr beneath him until he'd gotten what he wanted and left. One of the girl's had become his distraction for weeks. He would never tell Lottie, but he'd chosen her for her blond hair and her blown eyes. The blond was from a bottle and her eyes were only light brown, but it had been enough for him. The girl's name was Caroline and in the beginning she'd sought _him_ out. He'd let her stew for days before finally catching her on her way home and taking her on the grassy hill behind the railway station. Caroline was an idiot and a romantic and had spoken of their future and school dances while all he'd ever wanted from her was _Lottie_. Toward the end he'd resented her for not being his sister and their relationship had become something of a danger. The last time they'd slept together had left Caroline bruised and terrified of him. Now she wouldn't even meet his eyes in class. He hadn't beat on her, or anything quite so ridiculous, but he'd scared her. Blindfolded her and held her down and whispered things into her ear that had made her tremble and cry. Things he hadn't even known himself capable of saying, and all to hurt her, because all he really wanted was Lottie and Caroline wasn't enough. He'd punished her for not being his sister.

Charlotte was all he'd _ever_ wanted.

Looking at her now, he knew his days of seducing the idiots at school were over. Now that he'd been with her, nothing would ever compare, nothing would satisfy him the way she could. He couldn't even imagine getting hard at the sight of another girl.

It was Lottie, it had _always_ been Lottie.

"I might have lied to you before." He said, finally breaking the silence, "I don't think once is enough."

Lottie sighed stroking her fingers across his jaw and smiling when he nuzzled against them. "I know." She murmured, kissing him softly as he slowly eased her back down onto her feet. "It will never be enough."

And hearing it aloud, he knew it was true. They were damned forever now, their curse was that they would exist forever with a need for the other that could never quite be satisfied. This didn't affect him as it had before. There was no pit in his stomach that curled its painful frigid claws inside of him. In fact beyond his devotion to her, he didn't really feel much at all.

She was all he needed, all he wanted and now she was truly his and he wasn't going to let go if it _killed_ him.

* * *

><p><strong>And now...we get to the horror<strong>


	4. Snack Time

**I'm going to go ahead and warn you, while the beginning of this chapter is all lovey-dovey sexiness, it does not remain that way. Things get twisted, and some of you might be a little sickened, but now you can't say I didn't tell you ahead of time.**

**I promised you horror. Do **_**you**_** think I delivered? I do.**

**1994**

It was three AM Saturday morning when I reached out of my shower to grab a towel and found instead what might as well have been a washcloth. Pulling back the curtain I looked out into the steamy bathroom to find that all of the towels as well as my neatly folded change of clothes were missing, and there was only one person who would do that to me.

Sighing heavily to myself, I wrapped the hair-towel around myself and looked down at it. The thing barely made it around me once and the edge rested just below my ass. Any bending whatsoever would result in flashing, so I made a note to stay standing as I marched out of the bathroom and into Tate's bedroom down the hall.

I found him lounging across his bed, leaning back against the headboard with one knee bent up to support his arm, the other hung off the side of the mattress. One hand rested behind his head as he rolled a tootsie pop around in his mouth, in the other he held a copy of Lord Byron's _Manfred. _

At first I only stood there in the doorway, waiting for him to acknowledge my presence, but he seemed rapt in his reading. So, with an arched brow I shut the door and crossed my arms over my chest, moving to the side of the bed.

"_Thy spell hath subdued me. Thy will be my guide_."

Tate's dark eyes flicked up over the pages of his book, and he rolled the tootsie pop to the corner of his mouth, "As much as I'd love that, I'm passed that point." He said shortly, looking back to his book, "he's just realized that calling to the spirits was a mistake."

"Good for him. Where are my clothes?"

"I would assume in your hamper. Constance finished the laundry at 9 tonight."

"Tate, I'm tired, and I'd cold. Where the hell did you hide my clothes?"

"What makes you think I would do something like that?" he asked innocently, but his eyes were roaming down my long legs, and the heat in them was obvious.

I let out a frustrated groan, to which he only chuckled, setting his book on the nightstand and getting comfortable to watch me rummage through his room.

"You took my towel. Who _does_ that?" I pulled out each of his drawers one by one, emptying the contents onto the floor as I went, "I mean, what the hell is this_ thing_ supposed to cover exactly?"

"Not your ass." He commented, head titled to the side to regard the towel that had slid up my backside when I bent down to pull out his bottom drawer. I stood up with a scowl, smoothing the cloth back over my butt and moved for his closet.

"Were you bored? High? What is wrong with you? It's like _30_ degrees tonight, do you _realize_ that. You're just sitting there like a tool and I'm freezing my ass off."

"I promise it's still there." He smirked, then sat up to watch me go through his closet. After a while he chuckled softly and shook his head, pulling the tootsie pop from his mouth to roll the stick between his fingers.

"You're never going to find them." He said and I spun on my heel, eyes narrowed.

"Tate Langdon if you put my clothes in the crawlspace I swear to _God-_"

"That's no place for clean clothes, "he grinned picking his book up again and leaning back to get comfortable, "Who do you think I am?"

I stomped over to the side of his bed with a scowl. "What do you want?"

"I don't follow." He said, not looking away from _Manfred._

"You took them for a reason, Tate. You wanted _something_, so what is it?"

"Perhaps it was your lovely company…well, normally lovely. Right now you're kind of acting like you're on the rag."

I slapped his book down out of his hand and leaned in to get in his face. "Tate, I'm not fucking around. Where are my-"

My words were cut short by a yelp of surprise when suddenly he grabbed me and jerked me down onto the bed, rolling on top of me and pinning my arms together above my head. For a moment I could only stare up at him with wide eyes as he gazed down at me without expression. His black eyes moved over my body, and the towel that had been rumpled now before flicking back up to my eyes.

"For starters I want you to be nice." He said softly. He kept my wrists pinned with one hand while the other traced the line of the towel over my breasts. "You'll get your clothes back, I just need you to do one thing."

My eyes narrowed in suspicion while his finger circled my nipple through the fabric, making it stand at attention. "And what is that?"

Tate's lips curled into a slow smile, and his hand slipped down between my legs making me gasp.

"I need you to come for me," he murmured against my ear, and my eyes fell closed with the sudden rush of arousal that followed.

"You could have just asked." I managed to say once his fingers had slipped inside of me and began to work at a steady rhythm.

"I could," he agreed with a grin, pulling back to look down at me and releasing my wrists. "But you always _complain_ when I catch you fresh from a shower." He untucked the edge of my towel right above my breasts and opened it slowly. "When I'm fucking you, I don't want to hear about how you'll have to take another shower, and how I'm an asshole." He tugged the material out from under me and tossed it off the bed, then wrapped his hand around my wrists again. I'd been so distracted, I hadn't even moved them.

Tate smiled wickedly and leaned down to draw his tongue along the line of my clavicle bone, his black gaze lifting to meet my eyes as he did so. He kissed me between my breasts, moving lover.

"But, Lottie, you should know," he began nipping at the flesh on my hip and kissing away the brief flash of pain.

"Mm-hmm?" I asked, it was the only thing I could get out now that he was working my clit and he'd kissed me right above my sex.

"You _are_ going to need another shower."

"Oh _fuuuck_." I moaned when he smirked and dipped his head down to work me with his mouth.

Suddenly I didn't care if I ever saw those clothes again.

**1983**

"Moira, be a doll and go see what the twins are up to would you? When they're quiet this long I feel like they're up to something."

"Yes ma'am." The maid turned on her heel without another word and moved out of the back door into the yard. She wasn't supposed to deal with children, that wasn't her job, but when Constance told her to do something, it wasn't up for discussion. She needed this job, so she would suck it up and go deal with the little devils.

Moira had never liked the Langdon children. Addie was harmless, but a creepy little shit, and the twins…well they were a handful. Normally, she was great with children, she was kind and adoring, but with those little devils, there was no pleasing them. There were times that she thought them demons.

She'd heard of bad seeds before, but never put much stock in the Hollywood idea. Sure she'd seen the Omen, but the idea that a child could really be so twisted had been beyond her, until she started working here.

Since she'd been employed, the twins had taken it upon themselves to make her life hell. Tate in particular seemed to hate the very sight of her. She would never admit it, but there were time that he looked at her, and she felt like he _knew_ she'd slept with his father. Well, not so much the sex bit, they weren't really interested in such things at 6, but he knew something was different. He knew that Daddy looked at her the way he was supposed to look at Mommy, and that made the little devil unhappy. The girl was a hellion, yes, she was devious and cruel, but Tate…there was just something about him that set Moira on edge. Something in his eyes, eyes that should have been brown like his sister's but were instead deep and _black. _Like gateways to hell. When he looked at her, she felt as if she were staring into the eyes of the devil himself.

Moira had moved into the unfinished wooded end of the property. This was usually where she found them. Playing lions as they called it or other creepy things she tried to ignore if at all possible. Out in the bushes she heard Charlotte giggle and sighed heavily, marching forward and wondering how much it would cost to get the new shoes she would need after these were utterly destroyed in the dirt.

"Alright you little brats. That's enough. Your mom wants you inside. It's almost time for supper."

There was a rustling to her left, and she paused as a streak of wild blond curls bounced passed her and disappeared again into the foliage.

"Charlotte." Moira called, moving to follow the girl. After a few stumbles, she bent down to take off her shoes.

More wild giggles and something barreled out of the brush, knocking into her and throwing her off balance. Moira cried out and fell into the dirt, shooting up onto her hands to look around for the twins but they were already gone again.

"I'm not playing this game." She called to them, fingers clenching in the dirt. Her voice was strong, but inside she was trembling. "Don't make me go get your mother."

"Momma won't do anything." She heard Tate and spun to face the little demon as he stepped out of the bushes, but her next words were lodged in her throat.

The boy was covered in blood. It was streaked across his face, slathered over his clothes, and dripping from his fingers. Bits of his hair had been stained bright red and when he saw the horror on her face, his tilted his little head and smiled. There was something in his hand, but she didn't want to look away from his face in case he suddenly sprang toward her.

"She will." Moira insisted finally, slowly pushing herself up onto her knees. "And she won't be happy with you, you know what happens then."

Tate glanced over her shoulder at a rustle in the bushes behind her and she glanced back to see Lottie moving out of the green, likewise bathed in crimson. Moira had found them with animals before, sliced open, eviscerated. She'd once stumbled across Lottie in the garage pretending to be a grocer and selling Tate a length of sausage. The sausage had been the intestines on a stray dog. This however, was different. There was too much blood for an animal, unless they'd found themselves a deer, and she doubted that.

Lottie grinned at Moira, wiping her chubby little fingers across her cheek and smearing the blood there even more. With a little frown, she tried to wipe her hands off on her ruined dress, but there were no clean spaces to do so and she gave up. Not wanting to be the next supplier of fresh sausage, she decided to play it kind and hope for the best.

"Are you playing lions again?" she asked with a forced smile as Lottie joined her brother at his side and took his hand. "I know you two like to go hunting."

Tate tilted his head to regard her curiously, trying to figure out whether or not she was screwing with them. There was something terrifying in a child who seemed as shrewd as the average adult. Children who could smell lies and offer better ones, made her nervous. The_ twins_ made her nervous.

"Lottie brought home some food for the pride." Tate said, affording his twin a loving smile that she returned. "We'll have food for weeks."

"Wonderful." Moira smiled, slowly standing and trying her best not to lose her cheerful smile. "Can you show me? I'd love to see your catch."

Lottie made a strange sound, halfway between a whine and a growl, her attempt at a lion noise and Tate held up a hand.

"Lions have to protect their food." He said seriously, "Otherwise the others will try to steal it."

Moira nodded holding up her hands in understanding, "Well, don't worry, I just had a big meal, so I'm stuffed."

They thought about it a long moment, Lottie whispering to him while he watched Moira with those terrible black eyes, gripping what she now realized was a small medical blade. Though where he'd gotten it she had no idea.

"I guess." Tate finally shrugged, then leaned in close to whisper something to his twin that made her giggle and disappear back into the bushes. "It's over here."

Moira nodded, swallowing her fear and followed him slowly deeper into the trees. They walked a few minutes, and Tate was careful to keep her in his sights. She had a feeling that if she tried to run from them, something bad would happen to her, and the fact that she was being intimidated by children didn't make it any less threatening. The truth was these kids were _fucked_. In the head, in their unfortunate choice of parents. They were _wrong,_ and she didn't want to make them angry. The closer they got to their destination, the more Moira began to notice a repugnant odor drifting out through the leaves. She tried to hold her breath to ignore it, but the scent seeped into her nose regardless.

"Right through there." Tate said suddenly, pointing with his blade into a clearing they often used to play in. It was their "lion's den".

Moira hadn't prepared herself for what was inside it. She never could have. Dogs and cats were one thing, she'd seen too many of them mutilated now to be much affected by them. Tate liked to leave bits of the torn bodies around the house while she was cleaning. Once Lottie had placed a freshly sawed through dog's head in the laundry hamper, waiting around the corner until she heard Moira scream and then giggling and running off with her brother. Dead animals, she could now handle. Not this.

Not a_ child_.

The twins had made a bed of leaves for the girl they'd found. Moira didn't recognize her, but could only assume they'd lured her from the playground a few blocks down. She had dark brown hair, lovingly gathered into a braided bun on the back of her head and strung with yellow ribbons, though those were now stained with her blood. One of the girl's legs had been broken over a large rock that Tate liked to call his throne. The bone jutted out of the pale torn flesh of the child's calf, blood congealing out around it.

_Congealing_. She'd been here long enough that she was starting to _rot_. Flies buzzed in an endless dance around her, crawling across her face, slipping in between her slack, graying lips. One dipped from the air to rest momentarily on the child's open eye, then buzzed away again just as quickly.

Moira let out a soft sound of horror, her hand going up to cover her mouth as she took in the mangled corpse. They hadn't just killed her, they'd opened her up, just like all the animals. Her ribcage had been pried open, spilling her insides onto the ground beside her corpse. Some of them had been removed completely, the liver was nailed to a tree above the girl, and her stomach had been set on a rock beside her and opened for them to explore what she'd eaten. There were also places along her arms and legs where chunks of the muscle had been removed, sawed off and tossed on the ground or into the small fire pit the twins had constructed for themselves.

"Oh Jesus." Moira breathed, looking away and finding Lottie standing in the brush, holding her stomach with a frown.

"You can have some if you want." Tate said, though it wasn't generosity in his black eyes, but sadistic glee at her revulsion. "We already ate."

"_Ate_…" she looked between them, her stomach twisting, and the world began to tilt. Lottie made a soft sound of displeasure and shuffled toward her brother, grabbing the sleeve of his shirt and tugging on it.

"My tummy hurts, Tate." She said pitifully, "I thought you said it would be ok."

"Lions don't cook their food." He replied simply, his dark, hellish eyes still focused on Moira and the sickly green color she was turning. The maid stumbled away from them falling through the bushes to vomit onto the ground.

They had _eaten_ her. Not only had they just murdered a girl, but they had cut off some pieces and _**eaten her for lunch. **_The world was spinning as she tried to push herself back up, but suddenly Tate exploded through the leaves, landing on top of her back and grabbing a fist full of her hair. He wrenched back her head and pressed his bloody knife to her throat.

"You _can't_ tell Momma. She wouldn't let us play lions anymore."

"_Oh god, oh god, oh god_." Moira chanted softly as the blade moved higher, nicking her flesh and sending a small rivulet of blood trialing down her throat.

"You gotta_ promise_." He insisted, wrenching her head so that he could see her face, and she his. His expression was like nothing she ever wanted to see again, cold and empty and dark. It was like the evil in his eyes had bled out into the rest of him, and she swore even his skin was cold now. Though perhaps that was simply a bad reaction to raw girl meat. Again nausea swelled inside her, but she had nothing left to throw up and only gagged.

"I promise." She said nodded frantically as Lottie moved into sight a few feet away. Her face was pale and she looked like she were about to be sick, but her dark brown eyes were focused on Moira, her tiny mouth turned into a frown.

"Make her all red, Tate." She said. "She's gunna tell. I _know_ it. Make her eyes get empty and then we can eat her too."

"No!" Moira cried, then swallowing, she lowered her voice, looking between the children. "I won't tell. I swear it."

"Kill her already." Lottie said, clutching her stomach. Perhaps her violent temper was because she was feeling sick, Moira didn't have time to figure it out though.

"She won't tell." Tate said finally, leaning down to search her eyes with a smile that sent shivers of terror down her spine. "Will you, Moira?"

She shook her head, "No. I won't, I promise."

"Do you pinkie promise?" he asked, still grinning, "You can't break those."

Moira presented her hand holding up her little finger and swallowing her revulsion when his blood coated digit curled around hers.

"Ok." He said, and suddenly his voice was friendly and calm again, rather than edged by evil intent. Tate climbed off of her, and even did his best to help her stand up. "Tell Momma we'll be back soon. We have to bury our catch. She's starting to smell icky."

Moira nodded, feeling numb and clutching herself tightly. Lottie was still watching her with a scowl, but she didn't argue her twin's decision. She never did. She didn't remember walking back to the house, just that when she got there she grabbed a bottled water from the case in the garage and swallowed it down, puking it up almost instantly after. She stripped down after that, to scrub her uniform in the sink out there, and she hadn't realized she was crying until the tears dropped down onto her hands.

One thing was certain. She was going to find another job.

**1994**

Lottie rolled over on Tate's bed, blinking slowly back into consciousness and stretching out with a yawn. She'd never gotten to that second shower. They'd been too busy fooling around and had passed out naked and curled around one another like jungle cats.

Tate took a moment to admire the sight she made, pale skin tight against her slender body, long legs tangled in the sheets beside him. He smiled to himself and rolled onto his side to kiss each of her ribs as she smiled sleepily and stroked his hair.

"Good morning." She said softly, there was a husky early morning quality to her voice that made him hard all over again and he grinned up at her resting his chin on her stomach.

He'd dreamed about lions that night. Of the day Moira had seen their game and nearly lost her mind. She kept her word at least, though he imagined that was due to the fact that shortly after she had disappeared with their father. He'd always hated that prissy bitch of a whore, and there were times that he regretted not listening to Lottie and slitting her throat.

"What are you thinking about?" his sister asked softly, continuing to stroke his hair. He turned his head to rest on her stomach and curl closer to her staring off into the shadows of his room.

"I was thinking about what we have to do. Whether or not I'm ready."

"You mean the school?" she asked, wrapping her arms around him and playing tracing small circles across his spine. "Are you having second thoughts?"

He pushed himself up onto his elbow to search her face, "Are you?"

Lottie smiled gently, reaching out to stroke his cheek. "Of course not, baby. We don't have a choice. We _have_ to do this."

"I know." He said, laying his head back down on her stomach and closing his eyes.

They would take as many as they could when the time came, and there wasn't a single person that would see it coming. He didn't feel bad about this, he didn't feel much of anything, but the confidence that it was their only option. They would take them all away from the pain and the decay of the world around them, off to somewhere clean and kind. A place he knew he and his sister would never know.


End file.
